


To Return, To Try Again

by DelilahMidnight



Category: Madre Solo Hay Dos | Daughter From Another Mother (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Post Season 1, Time Skips, multiple AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMidnight/pseuds/DelilahMidnight
Summary: Different scenarios of what could play out after the s1 ending. Each chapter is a different scenario. Not sure if I will make any of these longer; mostly this is just me playing around. Enjoy!
Relationships: Ana Servín/Mariana Herrera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mariana lives with her daughter and her grandmother and tries to move on. A soldier of love never comes back from the war.

Regi is nowhere to be found.

Mariana's heart is suddenly in her mouth--she was on her phone for literally a _second_ and her baby has wandered off.

She swears and leaps to her feet, abandoning purse and stroller, shopping bags and overcoat, calling Regina's name frantically, her voice brittle with terror. Terrible thoughts flash through her mind, quick as lightning, illuminating awful possibilities, and over everything the memory of a huge green wave and salt in her eyes, her nose, her lungs--

"REGINA! I swear by Jesus, Mary, and Joseph if you dont answer me _right now_ \--!"

A couple of well heeled older mothers, designer sunglasses perched perfectly upon sun-kissed blonde waves, turn to watch her, bemused and slightly disdainful, their Burberry-clad offspring sipping no-doubt organic apple juice from colorful ergonomic sippy cups. Mariana can feel their eyes on her but ignores them, swearing again, panic closing her throat so completely that she stumbles.

She's weaving thru the swingset and ducking under slides when she hears a shriek of laughter and then a screech, " _Thats what you get, you fascist!_ "

Mariana sobs and turns toward the sound: two little girls are tussling on the grass under an enormous plátano. They're both brunette, but it's obvious which one is hers: Regina, in a handmade wool sweater and long patchwork skirt that she picked out herself that morning, despite the chill in the air, her long, uncut hair swirling furiously around her almond-brown face, is fairly sitting on top of a pale, screaming child whose once-impeccable scarlet frock coat and dutch braid are now plastered with bits of twig and dried grass.

" _Regina_!" shrieks Mariana, aghast. "Get off that child at _once_!" 

She barrels towards the children, at once furious and relieved, shocked and overjoyed--may her ancestors appropriately discipline her grandmother for teaching her five year old such an alarming phrase--and is just hauling her irascible child off the other little girl when more yelling reaches her ears.

" _How dare you allow your little brat to attack my precious little girl?!_ "

She doesn't even have time to register the familiar accent and cadence--the slightly hysterical tone that flicks something on in the deepest recesses of her mind--she's trying to hold up her idiot daughter with one arm and reassure and pull the other child to her feet with her other hand--she jerks her head to get her bangs out of her face--and there, out of the corner of her eye, the other mother stops dead--

Suddenly, time freezes. Mariana is holding two children, and her breath, and an electric blue gaze she hasn't seen in four and a half years, echoes of a power ballad in her ears and the feel of raw, sunlit lips against hers.

Ana swallows, clenches her fists. "Mariana?"


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana breaks their silence after 3 months and the girls come to visit.

The babies are with their father and older siblings, no worries about that. Ceci had given the women a wide-eyed, apprehensive look before carefully hoisting Vale onto her hip. Rodrigo had simply been happy to be able to make faces at his other little sister again, and made a big show of crowing about how big she was and how long her hair had gotten in three months while buckling her into her car seat. Juan Carlos, on the other hand, had just given the two mothers a curt smile before getting into the driver's seat and pulling the car out of the driveway. 

They had started out in the living room, at opposite ends of the pristine white sofa, Mariana's ugly little leather bag clutched tightly in her hands, but at the instant Ana had finally opened her mouth to speak, Sofía had crossed the entry hall and, seeing Mariana, had made a beeline to say hello and ask her how she'd been. Ana had abruptly moved them to the formal dining room then, but within five minutes Beatríz had walked in to start her weekly dusting of the room and, to Ana's mounting desperation and frustration, interrupted them to exclaim delightedly at seeing Marianna "back in the big house". 

They're in the nursery, now, with the door locked, which is maybe not surprising, because aside from a bathroom or a bedroom, Ana can't think where else they might be safe from prying eyes and overeager ears. Mariana is watching her pace and swallow and wring her hands with concern on her face, but Ana can't look the girl in the eye. _This was a bad idea_ she thinks, far too late. There is nothing she could do to make the situation better, and she knows--she _knows_ \--that what she has to say will only make things worse, and yet...

She turns to Mariana, finally. Mariana, who sits on the bench, not the rocking chair, and grips the wooden edge so hard her brown knuckles are white. Mariana, who is wearing the ugliest peasant top Ana has ever laid eyes on, and no makeup, and dark rings around her soft eyes, and a look so fearful that Ana feels ashamed for maybe the fourth time in her whole life. Mariana, who didn't have to come today, and certainly didn't have to bring Regi along with her; Mariana, who had sent Ceci a beautiful silver bracelet on her seventeenth birthday two weeks ago; who left Vale's face wet with tears when she kissed her goodbye an hour ago, who had picked up Ana's call on the first ring two days ago, who hasn't smiled since stepping foot in Ana's enormous empty home half an hour ago.

Ana feels completely monstrous. She feels cavernous, and empty, and like she doesn't deserve to feel any other way.

She sits down next to Mariana, gingerly, like Mariana might splinter from the shockwave of that small movement. Their knees barely touch.

 _But she's here, isn't she?_ Ana thinks. _She's here, next to me, and the world hasnt crumbled._

Ana can feel Mariana's gaze heavy on her face, but she doesn't look up from her hands, which are smoothing over her pant legs over and over, and Ana feels like maybe this is it, this is as far as she can bring herself to go, being silent in the same room, the same breath as Mariana, because its not like she has a right to anything more--

Mariana covers Ana's left hand with her right, and Ana whips her head around so fast that Mariana inhales sharply, and the sound knifes Ana somewhere between the ribs. They stay there, suspended, for the space of a breath, or maybe two, Ana's heart is pounding so loudly in her ears she can't actually process it, and then Mariana takes her other hand and pulls them into her own lap, so that Ana's whole body has to turn towards her, and she can feel something, something full and warm that she hasn't felt since that day three months ago when they both wore white and held hands and looked at each other just like this, and Mariana is almost smiling, almost glowing, the warmth in Ana's fingertips and her knees and her ribcage suddenly spills out of her like honey and she leans into Mariana, into the gold of her eyes, and her voice cracks when their foreheads touch and she whispers, _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me._

Mariana's eyes are infinite and astounding when she pulls back, just a whisper, and puts her palms on Ana's cheeks to wipe her thumbs under her eyes, and Ana feels the wholeness, the liquid warmth in her surge like the tide towards the moon, and she kisses her, slides one hand up the side of her face and holds her other one over Mariana's wrist on her cheek, and she whispers against her lips, her jaw, her neck, so she'll know she means it, she _must_ know she means it when she says _Te amo, te adoro, te amo, te amo, te amo._

But something's not right. Mariana is frozen, her lips resolutely shut, and the hand Ana was holding like a fragile treasure falls into her lap as her tears turn cold on Mariana's cheeks. 

So suddenly that Ana feels the wind knocked out of her, Mariana has stood up, all the softness in her gone. She puts three hard steps between them, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. _No_ , she says, and her voice isnt loud, or firm, but as quiet and dark as smoke. _You don't get to do that, Ana. Not after three months. Three months I didn't know if you were dead or dying, if I would ever see you again, if I would ever get to hold my_ daughter _again._

Ana's fear is rising in her like a fever, and she stands up, reaches out her hand--

Mariana takes another step back to stop her. _I'll come pick up Regina at 6. I dont want to see you then. Or after._

Ana tries one more time, her heart in her mouth. _Te amo_.

Mariana walks out and leaves the door open behind her.

Ana can hear the girl's hurried footsteps on the stairs as she falls to her knees, her heart an anchor pinning her to the floor. She sobs with her face pressed to the carpet, not caring that the sound echoes hollowly down the empty marble staircase, long after the front door has slammed.


End file.
